On clarity

We obsess over clarity in writing. "Write clearly," they say. "Make it simple."

But clarity is often dishonesty. It's forcing a complex thought into a simple shape. It's trading truth for readability. This is why Writing is a search procedure matters — it's about finding truth, not simplifying it.

The thoughts I care about don't fit into simple sentences. They're networks. They branch. They contradict themselves in ways that matter. The shape of a thought captures this better than any linear writing can.

Clarity would mean choosing. Choosing which branch to prune. But Notes on attention shows that what we choose to focus on becomes who we are.

I'd rather be faithful. Faithful to the actual texture of the thought. If that means the writing is harder to read, so be it.

Real understanding is supposed to be difficult anyway.